The Second Day

by Diane Fahey

Diane Fahey

But it's daytime again — noon! —
they're back in costume and this is luncheon.
He rises from the long oak table,
strolls to unlock the linnet's gold cage,
throw in a charred piece of pheasant:
‘Wings,’ he laughs, ‘for the wingèd!’
The scene shrinks and expands round
a convex glass that shows the stains
on his blue velvet jacket,
crescents of forest-green beneath
her collar's guipure… The candle flame
is a diamond needle flickering
inside each eye. It points now
towards him; now towards her.

From: 
The Sixth Swan





Last updated August 18, 2022